


New Nyon

by starvonnie



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Fights, M/M, Past Abuse, Past Megastar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-05
Updated: 2018-04-05
Packaged: 2019-04-19 00:02:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14224731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starvonnie/pseuds/starvonnie
Summary: Starscream isn't the leader of Cybertron anymore, but he's still involved in politics.  A new project where Nyon is rebuilt as a city meant to unify Autobots and Decepticons and provide housing for veterans means that Starscream must move there to oversee some affairs.  He had hoped Rodimus would come with him, but he hadn't expected his reaction.





	New Nyon

Rodimus’ throat burned.  Fire and fury burst forth from a voice box that had just last night whispered sweet nothings.  He shook with rage.  He spat every horrible thing that crossed his processor 

“Why won’t you fight back?” Rodimus screeched.  He took a step towards him and Starscream flinched.  His wings sank so low they nearly disappeared behind his back, but he could see the barely contained fury in his optics.  He’d looked into them enough to know.  

More quietly—gently, even—Rodimus said, “I can tell you’re mad at me.  Why won’t you fight back?”

More words, angry words, sat on his glossa, waiting to be spewed.  He’d had so much more to say.  They tasted bitter now.  Like bile.  And they felt... poisoned, somehow.

“Starscream...” Rodimus reaches out to touch him, and again, he flinched away.  He went so far as to take a step away.  “Wait.  Starscream, do you think... I’m... I’m not like him.”

Static crackled around Starscream’s optics when he looked at his conjunx.  He blinked it away.  “You sound like him.”

“I... Starscream, I’m sorry.  I would never lay a hand on you.  I’m just mad and...” Again, his attempt to comfort him just pushed him away.  “Okay.  I’m gonna go into the living room and I’m going to calm down.  I’ll be there if you want to talk or anything else.  And if you need space from me I’ll sleep on the couch.  But I want to talk.  Eventually.  Because I get mad.  Which I should probably work on, but... I don’t know I just know that we’re gonna right sometimes and I don’t want to make you feel like this.”

Starscream didn’t say anything and he didn’t look at him.

“I hope we’re still okay,” Rodimus went on.  “Because I still love you.  I never stopped.  And I won’t.  And I’m never going to hurt you.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”  He sounded like someone being strangled while he said this.

“I’m not.”  His instincts wanted him to leave a kiss on Starscream’s cheek and give his hand a comforting squeeze, but he abstained, as hard as it was.  “I’ll be in the living room.  For anything or nothing.  Okay?”

He left, his spark in his tank and his tank cramping so that everything felt tight and so, so wrong.  He regretted everything he’d said.  He should have known better.  He’d seen the scars that marred Starscream’s protoform.  For Primus’ sake he’d listened to all the horrible memories Starscream had told him years after they’d been together.  

They’d fought before but it was always bickering.  It was always such inconsequential things that they wouldn’t even remember in the morning.  But this.  This couldn’t be brushed off or ignored.

And what did he know?  He hadn’t been there.  He didn’t know what—

No.  No, he was calming down.  He should hear him out.  Had he really even talked about how fucked up this whole thing had made him?  Maybe.  They’d shared a lot of stuff over the years, but really this hadn’t come up.  They danced around this topic as much as they danced around Starscream’s past relationship with Megatron.  Neither of them wanted to face their demons.

Rodimus didn’t bother to turn on the light as he walked into the living room.  With the moon pretty much full, moonlight spilled in through the window and turned everything silver.  He kind of wished it was pitch.  He wanted to pretend the world didn’t exist for a while.  That this problem didn’t exist.  That their relationship didn’t exist, so he didn’t have to worry about losing it. 

He wished he’d never opened his mouth.

He sat down on the couch, awash in the moon’s exposing light.  He felt on display for the world on this, frankly, uncomfortable couch.  So much of their stupid furniture was for show.  Only what lay in their berth room had been designed for comfort.  Their one safe space.  The one Rodimus had defiled with his harsh words.

Unable to rest, let alone sleep, he stared out of the window.  He didn’t look at anything, though.  He just stared out over the unquiet city.  His home.  His only home since the _Lost Light_.  The home he’d created with the mech he’d spent the last while screaming at.

Time passed.  It must have.  It always did.  No matter how slow it felt, time passed.  It couldn’t be stopped or halted.  It paid no mind to their suffering.  It carried on.  Ceaseless.  If only he could hit “pause.”  Just for a little bit.  Just until he got things back to normal.

He hoped they would get back to normal.

The passage of time revealed itself in making Rodimus’ optic covers sag with exhaustion.  But as tired as he was, he couldn’t sleep.  He wouldn’t sleep until he knew what Starscream had chosen, and really, he shouldn’t choose him.  He was angry, and he held grudges, and he hated himself so much he couldn’t even bear to return to the same grounds he’d walked eons ago.  Before the war.  Before the Matrix had touched him.  Before all of his fuck-ups and mistakes.  The big ones, anyway.  Before he’d been anything more than another dirty gutter mech.

Rodimus turned his helm when he heard movement, and he couldn’t stifle his smile when he saw Starscream standing at the end of the hall.  He stayed completely still as Starscream took cautious steps toward the couch.  He even held his ventilation’s as Starscream sat down.  

“Starscream—“ Rodimus bit his glossa and stopped the barbed words right there.  His fury came too fast.  Too recklessly.  “I can’t go back there.  Even if they rebuilt everything exactly as it was—and they can’t—it won’t be the same.  And I guess that’s good.  I’m obviously not living in the gutters anymore, but I just can’t live there and pretend everything’s okay.  Nyon had to be rebuilt because of me.  I just... I can’t.”

“I can’t _not_ go,” Starscream said.  “This project is too important.  This is about Cybertron, rebuilt after the war.  And… I don’t want to see it without you.”

Rodimus looked down at his hands.  And soon, Starscream’s hand.  Over his.

“I just can’t.”  Rodimus wanted to pull his hands away from Starscream, but after everything that had happened, he knew he had to leave them where they were.

Starscream leaned against him.  “Okay.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Rodimus said.  “It’s not permanent, right?”

“No.  But it’s not a short stay.  It could be a year.  Or longer.”

“Oh...”

“Yeah.”  Starscream brought his legs up onto the couch and rested his helm in Rodimus’ lap.  “It’s being promoted as a city of unification.  A new place for Autobots and Decepticons to get a new start.  I have to be there to represent the population.  And especially for ‘reformed’ Decepticons.  It’s all slag, but if I don’t go it will ruin my reputation.”

Rodimus swallowed around the lump in his throat.  “Well, hey, what’s a year, right?”

“I don’t know if I can sleep without you anymore.”

Rodimus’ spark skipped a beat.  Gently, carefully, he rested a hand on the side of Starscream’s helm.  “C’mon, Star.  I’m just a space heater.  We’ll getcha set up with a nice heated berth and you’ll be asleep before you remember I’m not there.”

Starscream shook his helm.  “How are you this dense?”

Fingers so careful they ghosted along plating, Rodimus stroked his helm.  It felt like someone was sitting on his chest.  This all felt way too much like a break-up and he couldn’t handle another failed relationship.  He couldn’t take losing him.

“When was the last time you had a good sleep?” Starscream asked.  “Since before me.  When was the last time?”

Before Rodimus had much time to think, Starscream said, “What about the Lost Light?  Did you sleep well there?

Rodimus shrugged.  “Pretty well.”

“Well.  I haven’t made it through a night.  Not until you started sleeping with me.  I don’t know what it is about you or us but I don’t want to go back to that.”  Starscream laughed a sad laugh.  “Primus, even now I feel like I could just fall asleep right here.  And I hate you.  I hate how much I love you.  How much I need you.  This is why you never get used to good things.  They never last.”

Rodimus curled down over Starscream.  He hugged him awkwardly and he didn’t care.  He just needed to.

“I need you too, okay?” he whispered, barely audible.  “I literally have no idea what the frag I’m doing with my life now but I know I want you in it.  You’re my constant.  But I just can’t go to Nyon.  Or New Nyon or whatever, and I don’t know what to do.”  He trembled, scared and confused, wanting to comfort his conjunx, but needing comfort himself.  Too fucked up with his own problems to help his conjunx.  Too stubborn to try.  Unable to forgive himself.  “I just know that I don’t want to lose you.”

“Then come with me,” Starscream begged.  His hands reached for Rodimus, joining him in this awkward hug.  “New Nyon is about new starts for _everyone_.  You included.”

Rodimus shook his helm.  “I’m the exception.  I don’t _deserve_ a new start there.”

“Yes you do you _idiot_.”  He said this affectionately, with pain thick in his voice. 

He just kept shaking his helm, whispering, “No, no, no, no…”

“You did what you had to,” Starscream tried to reason with him.  “What else could you have done?”

Rodimus said nothing.  He just hugged him even tighter.

Starscream nudged him.  “Sit up.”

And he did, after his initial resistance.  He still clung to Starscream, and thankfully it didn’t seem like he wanted to pull away.

Starscream’s mouth now near his audial, he said, “I know you don’t want to talk about what happened.  I only know second-hand what happened that day.  But Rodimus, what you did was not malicious.  I asked you to join the Decepticons because I believed you understood what we stood for.  At least what we stood for in the beginning.  Now…”

“Please stop,” Rodimus begged pitifully.

“Fine.  Then I’ll ask you this instead.”  He pushed Rodimus away, and it had to be a rough shove given how tight Rodimus was holding onto him.  He kept a hold of his shoulders, though.  So that Rodimus had to look him in the optic.  “Do you still see me as the Decepticon I was?”

Rodimus blinked a lot and averted his gaze.  “What kind of—of course I don’t!”

“Look at me,” Starscream demanded.  “In the optic.  Say it again.”

He did, after some difficulty.  Forcing the shakiness from his voice, he said, “I don’t see you as a Decepticon.”

“So.  Your opinion of me has changed?”

Rodimus nodded.

“And you’d say I’m a better person?”  He smirked a little.  “At least mildly better?”

Rodimus couldn’t help a small smile of his own.  “You’re still an aft, but you want what’s best for our kind.  If that’s what you mean.”

“So I’ve changed?  For the better.”

Rodimus nodded.

“And you can’t think that about yourself, _why_?”

Rodimus shook him off.  “It’s not the same.  I’m not asking you to face your past mistakes.  I’m not rubbing your face in them.”

“You could argue I’m part of the reason for why the rest of our planet needs to be rebuilt.”

“Yeah, well, the NAILs will argue that we _both_ fragged up the planet.  They see us both as terrible people.”

“Rodimus.”  Starscream sighed.  “I get this is important to you, or a big part of your life, or—”

“My biggest failing as a bot.”

Starscream rolled his optics, but combatted the harshness with a gentle caress to Rodimus’ cheek.  “People don’t remember that you did this.  There aren’t banners or plaques or whatever in New Nyon telling people what you did.  I can’t say no one remembers, but everyone who does doesn’t blame you.  They know _why_ you did it.  You made a difficult decision that no one else wanted to make.  You weren’t the one who put everyone in that situation.  And I know you would have saved them if you could.  I’m gonna be blunt here, Rodimus: _this isn’t about you_.”

“Shut up.”

“No, I—”

“ _Shut up!_ ”  Rodimus shoved him away, and Starscream flinched even further, and now they were on opposite ends of the couch, right where they’d started.  Guilt flooded Rodimus’ frame as quickly as the anger had.

Starscream stood.  “Fine.  Maybe it’s good that this ends.”

“Wait.  Please, I’m sorry.”  Rodimus pressed the balls of his hands against his optics.  He couldn’t bear to check if Starscream stayed or not.

“You won’t even _try_ ,” Starscream said, and Rodimus stifled a sigh of relief after hearing his voice.  “I don’t want to go.  I don’t want to have to force you to go.  I can’t, obviously, but I’m not going to juggle you around everything else.  If you’re living with me, that’s different.”

“Come back,” Rodimus begged.  “Please.”  He let his hands fall into his lap.  “I’m not going to hurt you.  I _won’t_.”

“I know.  That’s not the problem.”

“But—”

“Why should I come back, hm?  Because the way I see it, this is an ultimatum.  You either come with me and we stay together, or you can stay here, and you can have the apartment.  I’ll keep paying for it.  I don’t do long-distance.  So.  I’m not going to drag this out for as many days as we have left if you won’t come with me.  If you will…”  His voice softened.  “If you’ll _try_.  You haven’t even seen the city.  It’s beautiful, Rodimus.  But if you _try_.  Then.  Then I’ll come back.  But I know now.  Your problems are not my fault, and I’m not about to let someone else take out their aggression on me.”

“Please, I’m sorry, I—”

“And I’m not going to let you _guilt_ me back, either.  All you have to do is tell me you’ll try, and then you fragging try.  I’m not asking for much.”

“You’re asking for _everything_.”

Starscream scoffed.  “We’ve all had to deal with stuff we’d rather not deal with after the war.  You’re not special.  You just shove it down until you don’t have to think about it anymore and then you act like it doesn’t bother you.  But it _does_.  If it didn’t, you’d have no problem coming with me.  And really, Rodimus, you could use this as an opportunity to held rebuild Nyon.  Of course it won’t be the same.  Nothing’s ever going to be like it was.  You have to accept that.”

Rodimus kept quiet, hanging his helm. 

“You don’t have the luxury to feel bad about yourself anymore,” Starscream continued.  “I’m being harsh because being nice has gotten me nowhere with you.  Come, or don’t.  Just make the damn decision.”

Rodimus could hear the hurt in Starscream’s voice.  How “don’t” strained on the way out.  He noticed how tightly he held his field to his frame, and it was especially jarring after all these years of being in the thick of it.  After he’d coaxed it out, of course.  It had taken a lot of time for Starscream to tell him anything even remotely personal.

“I wouldn’t ask you to, like, move in with Megatron,” Rodimus countered weakly.  And regretfully.  He regretted the words before he’d even finished saying them.

“Mm hm.  Well, I’m not asking you to blow the damn thing up again, now am I?”

Rodimus hugged himself.  “Sorry.  I know it’s not really the same.  I just… it’s hard.”

“I know.”  Compassion found home in Starscream’s tone.  “I know it’s not an easy thing to come to terms with, but neither is breaking up.  At least, I hope it isn’t.  For you.”

He shook his helm.  “No.  It’s not.  I love you too much to just walk away.  I mean, we built a life here.  And it’s _good_.  It’s so good.  I don’t want to lose that.”

After a brief silence, Starscream returned to the couch.  He didn’t try to reach out for his conjunx.  “What we have here,” he pointed to his spark, “we’ll have no matter where we are.  And New Nyon isn’t forever.  It doesn’t have to be.  Once the city’s settled and everything’s in place, we can go somewhere else.  Though I’m hoping you can find home again—a new home—there.  I bet I can even set you up with a job where you’ll help to protect the city, and the peace.  Primus knows we’ll need bots for that.  And if it doesn’t work, you can always come back here.”  Finally, he touched Rodimus.  A gentle hand resting on his arm.  “We’ll figure this out.  Together.”

“Stop being nice to me.  I don’t deserve it.”

“We get a lot of things we don’t deserve,” Starscream said.  “Be thankful this thing’s nice.”

With his helm hanging, Rodimus turned until it just touched Starscream’s shoulder.  “Okay.  I’ll try.”

Starscream lifted Rodimus’ chin and pressed a kiss to his forehelm.  “That’s all I’m asking.  And for you to keep me warm at night.”

Rodimus pulled Starscream against him and tucked his helm into the crook of his neck.  “And safe.  I’m supposed to protect you.  Not make you afraid of me.  I’m gonna work on my anger, okay?  I’m not gonna be like him.”

Starscream’s gentle chuckle tickled Rodimus.  “I don’t need protection.”

“Well, I’m gonna do it anyways.”  He kissed the side of Starscream’s helm.  “Cause I love ya.”

“Idiot.”  Starscream nuzzled closer.  “I love you, too.”


End file.
